Another Twister of Fate
by Blue-eyesThropp
Summary: It was a twister of fate... About a decade after Dorothy Gale's first unwitting drop into Oz on to the Emminence of the East, a second twister transports Drothy back into the magical land. But the once happy land of Munchkins has been siezed by the iron clutches of the Wicked Witch once more. Having survived the crash, Nessarose is more bitter than ever before and wants revenge.
1. Prologue: Endings End in Beginnings

**Authors Note: Hello again! This is the prologue to the newest story I am planning. The rest won't beuploaded for a while, but I've been promising uploads to various people for a whiel now, and I felt a bit guilty. Hope you like it. This will get better as goes along. Something of an experiment, I guess.**

**Disclaimer: Wicked does not belong to me. Wizard of Oz does not belong to me. The characters do not belong to me. My computer doesn't belong to me alone. Nothing belongs to me. I guess there are various "Back to Oz" fanfictions, or twists on events in Oz out there, but this story belongs to me (finally something does). No copyright infringement intended (that's a bit rich for a famfiction writer...)**

**Enjoy, and please don't forget to review. **

Endings End in Beginnings

By nightfall, the festive grounds had cleared, and neither inside nor outside of the house did anything stir but the birds of the night. No, nothing moved inside our outside the house. The lower limbs of the Eminence of the East still protruded from under the wretched building, a permanent display of the disgrace that eventually will befall the "wicked". One particularly restless bird atop of the house- a raven, (Or perhaps Raven) who considered himself more than a mere bird, being terribly sensitive and altogether terribly munchkin-esque- peered down from his perch, fluffing up his wings, and eventually taking flight. He had witnessed a most curious happening. One of the feet had stirred.


	2. Chapter 1 part 1: Twister of Fate

**Authors Note: So, just to let everyon know: As a word document, this first chapter is several pages long. I really didn't want to do that to the couple of people who are going to read this, so I'm splitting long chapters in part 1 and part 2. It is still the same chapter, but it'll be in two parts. **

**So, enjoy and don't forget to review!**

**Regards, Blue-eyes**

Chapter 1: Twister of Fate

"Toto! Toto!" Dorothy hitched up her skirts and ran into the garden, if indeed the fenced area of grey shrubbery around her little Kansan farmhouse could be called a garden.

"Toto! Toto! Oh, Toto, come here at once!" Toto, as good as ever, but more than just a little deaf by now, came bounding up to his mistress.

"There, good boy. Now go inside. Go! Shoo!" commanded Dorothy, running inside after her faithful canine. Once inside, Dorothy placed a cap on her head and grabbed her coat. She called over her shoulder, "Good-bye, good boy. Take care of the house." and left the house again. She was terribly late.

When Aunty Em had started to lose herself a little, Dorothy had he had promised her elderly guardian that she would take care of her little flower shop with Hunk, but she had so much to do with the house and the animals that she could only work twice a week. Still, she was a diligent, devoted worker and refused to be late.

Miss Gale- she had not yet married, though being nearly twenty years of age, it was coming on time- did not own nor drive an automobile, and since she had been a small girl she had had a fear of bicycles, dating back to the fearsome Mrs. Gulch, so she would travel the mile to work on foot daily. She did not mind the walk when it was a walk, but this hastened jog, made no easier a feat by the tightness of her ankle-length dress and the height of her shoes, was becoming quickly tiresome.

A little over half a mile away from the shop, Dorothy started to sing; not aloud, but quietly, to herself, a song that she had frequently sung when she was younger. She could not remember quite all of it, and it would always stop at the same place and would haunt her the entire day.

"Bother," mouthed the young woman. Singing whilst running made it all the more difficult to breathe.

* * *

"Dorothy!" exclaimed Hunk, throwing her an apron. "You're late. "

Hunk, the slow but ever so caring farm hand, had run the shop for a few years with Dorothy. It had been her Aunt's business, since Uncle Henry would tend to the farm, and whilst Aunt Em's presence and helping hands were always appreciated, she knew it did not bode well for a lady to soil her hands feeding pigs, and so she had set up the flower store, which could be viewed as true woman's work.

It was a quaint little place, which was constantly filled with an overpowering aroma. Aunt Em had enjoyed flowers in her youth, and had been very upset when she had to admit to herself that she was too old to care for the place anymore.

"I know, and I'm sorry. Toto decided to escape the confines of the house. He is so deaf."

Hunk grinned broadly. Dorothy was always astonished at how much like a scarecrow Hunk looked when he let his emotions show. He had once made jokes about his career as a farm hand failing, and how he may be employed as a scarecrow if he couldn't find different occupation.

"Has anyone been in yet?" Dorothy inquired

"Not yet. And it doesn't look good." Hunk gazed out the window and shook his head.

" There's a long list of deliveries though. Funerals, weddings- pretty much all across the table."

"What was I to expect? Since your idea of the door-to-door delivery, no one comes in personally anymore."

About half a dozen or so months ago, Hickory had been presented with the idea of door-to-door flower delivery. Since everything was being sold in that manner nowadays. Dorothy had agreed to try it for a brief period of time, and whilst business was blooming- in the truest sense of the word- it saddened Dorothy that few people ever found their way into the little shop anymore. She had so enjoyed the company of costumers. Still, she would reason, business was good, and that was what counted.

Dorothy sighed, and turned her attention to the bouquets. She arranged the flowers lovingly, touching every single one as though it were an ornament of glass, breakable and fragile. She loved flowers. They were so rare on the plains of Kansas. They were the only thing that brought colour into her still somewhat grey life.

_Somewhere, over the rainbow,  
Way up high,  
There's a land that I heard of… _

Where had she heard that song before? It kept on haunting her. When all was quiet, no one talking, no Toto barking, it would slip into Dorothy's head. She could not rid herself of it. Perhaps Aunty Em had sung it to her once. Or perhaps Uncle Henry? She couldn't be sure.

_There's a land that I heard of…_

And what was more, she couldn't remember any further. No matter how hard she thought, it never went on. The same three lines, over and over again, repeating themselves, slowly driving her into insanity.

"Dorothy," Hunk tore her from her reverie, "Did you feel the wind picking up when you came here?"

"I beg pardon?"

"Look." He said simply, and Dorothy hastened over to the window. He was right. The boughs of the trees were starting to move, and the brown grass rippled like water. Gazing up to the sky, the two could see dark clouds covering the sun. It was amazing and unnerving at once, how quickly the weather could change in their corner of Kansas.

"Dot" that was Hunk's pet name for Dorothy, "I think you'd better get along home."

Dorothy begged pardon again, and Hunk explained, "It's a twister Dot. Run! It's a twister!"

Those familiar three words. _"It's a twister"- _they still filled the woman with dread. So Dorothy ran.


	3. Chapter 1 part 2: Twister of Fate

**Author's Note: Chapter 2 part 2. Read, review and enjoy. Love, Blue-eyes**

Chapter 1 part 2: Twister of Fate

Dorothy fought her way through the wind. She was well practiced, but no matter how often she had experienced twisters, it hardly helped her keep her balance against the terrible, dusty storms. Planks from the garden fence were flying. Horses neighed and galloped, pigs squeaked in fright. Zeke and Hunk were fighting against wind and animals. They were trying to get everything and everyone into the Storm Cellar- pigs, cats, geese, ducks- anything small enough to fit, including themselves. The horses, lead by Zeke, were being returned to the stables. They offered little, if any shelter from the gale, but at least the horses would not be immediately swept off their feet by the wind.

"Dorothy," yelled Hickory over the wind, whilst trying to push a particularly restless goose into the Storm Cellar, "Fetch your Aunty Em!"

Dorothy nodded, and ran faster- into the house, through the hall, through the living room, and into the bedroom of her sick Aunty Em.

"Ah, Dorothy, my precious! How was work?"

The withering lady was propped up in a sizable four poster bed that she had once shared with her now deceased husband Henry Gale, her bird-like arms resting comfortably atop her chest. Over the last few years, the poor soul had begun speaking in nonsensical riddles, she had started refusing food and drink, and it had been recommended by the local doctor that she be confined to her room. It was Dorothy who cared for her, and kept her entertained when she was not prattling to herself or sleeping. Today, there was no time to entertain. The wind was picking up; Dorothy could hear and, even inside the house, feel it.

"Aunty Em, there's a twister."

"Yes, thank you ducky, I'm starving."

"No, a twister. Wind! _A gale!_"

"Oh dear, I think the bedpost's trying to say something."

Dorothy clenched her hands into fists and gritted her teeth. The old woman had started conversing with inanimate objects some months ago now. Very one-sided conversations, mind. Her favourite was the bedpost at the top left corner of the bed; the side that Henry had slept on, for she said her had many wise and interesting tales to tell of being a tree in the woods to being passed down from Father to Son till it arrived with her husband.

"Aunty Em the bedpost doesn't talk to you! _There's-a-twister-blowing! _Come to the Storm Cellar."

"The bathroom? Why on earth would I want to go there?"

"No," yelled Dorothy, trying to make her poor, confused old Aunt to comprehend, "We have to- _Aunt Em!"  
_The young woman watched,horrified, as the window frame have way to a sudden gust of wind and the entire frame came flying down, striking her Aunt square on the head.

There was no blood, but Emily Gale was out cold. But, being generally unable to move anywhere at a reasonably pace, it was almost practical that Dorothy now had to lift up her Aunt and carry her to the storm-cellar. It was not an easy feat, and although the task was made considerably easier by Em's light weight, it was still twice as hard due to her brittle bones and the fact that with one false move it seemed as though the fragile old bird may shatter into millions of pieces, a complication Dorothy was keen to avoid.

Zeke, the strongest farmhand, was chasing a chick that had been alarmed by the wind and was too confused and frightened to let itself be lead to safety through the house as Dorothy came staggering down the hall carrying her Aunt in a most awkward position. Ignoring the chick and shouting over the screaming wind, Zeke took Em from Dorothy.

"I'll take her. You get the chicken! We've got the cellar open!" he started jogging towards the door, holding his employer's wife in his arms as though she were nothing more than a half-filled sack of corn.

"Zeke!" called Dorothy, her small voice barely audible above the wind, " Where's Toto?"

"Eh?"

"Toto, my dog! Where is he?"

"Not a clue. Probably in the cellar. Come on, you'll find him there. Dorothy! Dorothy, where are you going? Dot, there's a gale blowing out there! _Dot!_"

Dorothy, however, had already begun tearing down the hall. Bursting out into the open, her head swivelled from side to side in a vain search for her dog. Battling against the cruel forces of nature Dorothy fought her way to the gate.

"Dorothy, come here! Dot, get out of the wind for the love of…" came the voices of all three farm hands- Hunk had arrived shortly after Dorothy, having closed the flower shop first. But Dorothy, unyielding to both the commands of the three men as well as the forces of the wind, determined to find her faithful companion, set off in the direction of the pigsty. This was Toto's usual retreat. Whether it was a storm, Mrs. Gulch or the landlord attempting yet again to deprive them of money they didn't have, Toto could usually be found, without fail, in the pigsty amongst the bulbous sows and squealing piglets, seeking safety and comfort.  
With the wind so strong, the three workers had already evacuated the sty. All the swine were safely in the cellar, being small enough to fit, so that when Dorothy arrived she found Toto sitting, as an obedient dog does, all forlorn in the middle of the sty, perhaps wondering where his odorous friends had gone.

"Oh Toto, come here you good thing. There you are!" Dorothy bent down to scoop the lightweight dog up into her arms. Toto gave a small "woof" of relief and started to flick his tale from side to side.

"There old boy. Don't you ever leave me like that again, do you hear? There, now come along into the cellar. We'll find the pigs there too. Wouldn't you like that? There, there. "Stroking the black fur of her eldest friend and whispering soothing nothings into his floppy ears calmed Dorothy. They made their way back to the trapdoor that opened into the cellar, Toto shrinking into his mistress' arms when he heard the screeches of the wind.

Dorothy bent down, all the while keeping Toto safely in her arms, and tugged at the handle to the trapdoor. She pulled once more. A sense of dread rose up from the pit of her stomach, eventually taking over her whole body as she gave the door another mighty pull, realizing with great impact that the trapdoor was locked.


	4. Chapter 2: Beyond the Moon, beyond the

**Author's Note: Hello everyone! Here is chapter two. I think I'll be taking a break after this or the next chapter to really flesh out the rest of the story. Still experimenting with whats doable yet, so please be patient. As to the name of the chapter: It'll tell you think chapter is called "Chapter 2: Beyond the Moon,Beyond the ..." I had to stop it there because it wouldn't let me finish it off with correct punctuation. But the full name is featured in the chapter. Hope that wasn't too confusing. Thanks to all readers and especially huge thanks to all those readers who are kin enough to favourite and/or review. Love you all!**

**Love, Blue-eyes**

Chapter 2: Beyond the Moon, Beyond the Stars…

Banging on the door with a heeled shoe, crying out for help- all efforts were futile. The cyclone was relentless, and Dorothy soon realized that all forces of nature were working against her. The strong wind was now coming in her direction, and it was all she could do to stay on her feet. Toto was winging and thrashing his head from side to side, whilst Dorothy was reluctantly staggering backwards, driven by the harsh force.

She did not- could not, for the sounds around her were overpowering and far louder than the simple crack- hear nor notice the front gate, as it too gave way to a mighty gust, its hinges, many times replaced, too weak now to withstand. It was a frightful blow as Dorothy had never been subjected to before. She had been hit on the head countless times, but this was pain of a new sort, and she crumpled to the floor within an instant, knocked out.

* * *

Feeling her body crashing against some fairly hard object, the young woman awoke with a start. There was a distinct pounding in her head, and she felt altogether drowsy and unwilling to rise. Had she fallen asleep on the job? Who had brought her to bed? Hunk, perhaps. Was the new day breaking, or was it still the same day, only a different time? Perhaps it was lunchtime. She rubbed her eyes, her vision sliding in an out of focus. Propping herself up on her elbows, then up onto her hands she surveyed her surroundings. This was not her room. Or rather, it was a recollection, a faint memory –a dream? - of her room. Her headache, she realized, must have been the effect of a severe blow to the head, or else there was no rational explanation. Dorothy found herself in her own house, but not her house as it was now. The room she was in was the room she had played in with dolls, held tea parties with girls from the neighbourhood. It was her room, her house, but it was as it had been ten years ago when she had been but a girl.

A faint growl of discomfort came from under the bed.

"Toto! Oh Toto, you're here! Come to me darling."

Upon hearing his mistress' voice, Toto bonded out from under the bed and sprang up into Dorothy's lap. He had suffered from great fear; fear of the gale, fear of seeing his owner lifeless on the sandy floor. The elderly dog nuzzled in to his mistress. It dawned on her then. She could feel her dog, indeed; feel the bed under her rear, the headboard against her back. Would she be able to feel if she had been hallucinating? She doubted it greatly. Her spine felt as though it were slowly turning to ice and her head started pounding even more. She was real; Toto was real as were here entire surroundings. This was real.

In a swift move of the hand, Dorothy moved Toto off her lap and swung her feet off the bed. She appalled to see that she had been in bed with dirty shoes on. Standing up slowly for fear of a rush of blood to her already uneasy head, she walked once around the room, and then proceeded into further corners of the house. All her senses seem intact. She could hear her black t-strap shoes clicking against the wooden floor, feel the way her skirt rubbed against her legs with every step, and smell the faint odour of damp wood and chicken faeces.

When she quit her tour around the house, finally convinced that she was alive, and that she had not been swept up into some dream world or another, she halted directly before the door. Twisting her head around in search of her dog, and finding that her was right next to her, Dorothy pondered over what to do. She tried to convince herself that she was not dreading what she may behold once outside, but on the innermost inside of her soul, she knew it would be lying to say this. Her Aunty Em had once, in a fit of senile dementia, explained to her that she was going to travel through the dimensions, to a time where Uncle Henry still lived. Dorothy had believed she was suffering from delusions again, but what if Aunty Em had been right in part. What if, just what if, it was possible to traverse the dimensions, to find oneself in another time and place? Was this what Dorothy was currently experiencing? A form of time travel?

The young woman scooped Toto in up in one arm. She placed her other hand on the doorknob and turned it cautiously. With a sound of friction between wood and wood, the door opened. Dorothy set one foot tentatively outside, as though the ground my break under it.

Before the house was a long bridge, once adorned with decorative iron, now overgrown with weeds and rushes springing from the grey stream in lay across. To either side of her, Dorothy could see rare and beautiful plants, strangled by the very same weeds that had slung their long arms around the ancient bridge. Her feet, Dorothy noticed, had landed on a road of coloured brick. Through the layer of dust and the marks of many dirty shoes having crossed it, Dorothy guessed the road may once have been orange or yellow in colour. As she let her gaze wander further out, she saw that, some meters away, the road intertwined with a similar one of a reddish colour into a cunning spiral to confuse the eyes. There were rippling pools left and right of the road that each held a small platform in the middle for orators to deliver public speeches from, though the looked as though the hadn't been used in years.

Beyond the faintly coloured paths and behind a further row of weak plants, lay several diminutive houses. Dorothy could see even from here that she would have to stoop a little to fit through the doors.

An eerie silence surrounded the entire place. Dorothy sensed a growing feeling of unease. And then, the song returned to her again.

_Somewhere over the rainbow  
Way up high,  
There's a land that I heard of  
Once in a lullaby_

Captured in the faintest of Memories, as though she had seen this place before, been there, Dorothy pressed Toto close to her breast.

"Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."


End file.
